Growing Back Together
by Hansodax
Summary: Written from Katniss's point of view. Based on the last few pages of Mockingjay. I wanted to expand on how Peeta and Katniss grew back together. I will be putting in a couple of my own ideas, along with some uncommon characters. Rated T as there will be no explicit content. One use of strong language and suggested themes.
1. Chapter 1

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"Yes I know you can't keep making up our meetings." I say bluntly down the phone to Dr Aurelius. He continues to lecture me on how I am meant to be ringing him at least twice a week, to check in, if nothing else.

"Did you get the parcel I sent you?" He sounds optimistic but I just stare at pile of unopened parcels and letters. The fact is I haven't really moved from the front room. All my meals are cooked for me by Greasy Sae. I haven't even been outside to hunt. I haven't seen Haymitch since I have arrived back in District 12.

I could lie, however if he asks about the contents I won't be able to answer. "I may have but I haven't opened it."

"Well you should. It's a blank paged book. I thought you could use it as a diary, record each day as it comes."

"Why?" There is no emotion in my voice and by this point; I would like the conversation to end. I want to get back to the fire and do nothing else.

"You currently have tendencies to zone in and out. Writing will keep you on track and make you pay more attention to your day."

I can hear the phone's plastic crunching in my hand.

"I hope to hear from you again next week Miss Everdeen"

I put the receiver down without saying goodbye. I walk over to the pile of unopened post. I'm sure a few of the letters are wishing me well but I still don't want to face them. A couple of letters are from District 4. One I can tell is my mother's hand writing and the other I don't recognise. I push some of the envelopes around until I find the parcel I'm sure is from Dr Aurelius. I drag myself back to my chair in front of the fire and start to pull at the sides. Buttercup lets out a mew. Seems he cares more about the contents than I. As Dr Aurelius described, it's a plain book with blank paper. Not quite a diary. I guess you would call it a scrap book. I run the pages through my fingers a few times and set it down on the tea table next to me. There is a knock at the door but I don't turn to face who it is. I know it must be Sae. She lets herself and granddaughter in. No one locks the doors around here. If I did, it would mean more effort anyway.

"Good morning!" Her little granddaughter cries over to me. I look over and give a nod. Sae starts laying out the table and puts down the squirrel stew. Nothing like you would get in the capitol but it does taste of home. I notice there is no bread with the food like normal and stare at the empty plate. I don't know if my face is showing concern or confusion but Sae answers my expression anyway.

"I told him I wasn't going to take your bread anymore and if he wishes to give it to you, he should come over here himself."

I look up at her surprised and a little on edge. Peeta's hijacking was known to a select few but I'm sure she is aware.

"How is he doing? I have only seen him once since he has got back." I look out the window seeing the pale yellow primrose flowers.

"Better, I believe."

My stomach tenses a little bit.

"Every morning he makes the bread, I collect it for the people around town and myself. Sometimes he puts himself back to bed so I simply leave his food out for him. Other times I can hear him in his room; screaming."

No doubt something to do with me. I push my squirrel stew around the bowl. How can she think it's a good idea him coming here?

"However this last week he has been up and dressed and making all sorts of breads and pastries."

Well that's... promising? I give her a nod and she goes to leave. I can see in her shoulder bag bread being carried. I wonder if that means I'm going to get bread today or nothing for a while. I really don't want him here. I only let Sae in because she brings the food and then she spends a long time coaxing me to eat it. I look down at my bowl and realise I haven't actually touched anything yet. Before I know it, I tuck myself under the table and hold my knees to my chin.

There is a knock at the door and I close my eyes. It's not going to be Haymitch after all these months and I'm sure I could smell him from here. As the door opens, the smell of fresh bread wafts in but with the hint of something else. Cheese?

"Katniss?"

It's still his voice; it's still the boy with the bread. I just have no urge to move from my hiding spot. I can hear him walking towards the kitchen. He's still no quieter on his feet. Maybe I should be happy about that. He can't sneak up on me.

"Katniss?"

I hold my breath hoping I won't be discovered. I stare as he walks over. He still has a very slight limp. I hear the bread get placed on the plate. He sighs as he walks towards the door. Sigh? Sigh, in relief I'm not there or sigh because he wanted to see me? I can't face it. Not today. I wait until I hear the door firmly shut before I emerge.

I look down at the bread. It's still warm as I pick it up and it has cheese on the top. My favourite. I start to question if this means he remembers or if he was just doing cheese bread today. All the other days the bread has been plain. I break myself off a slice, savouring the smell before dipping it in the stew. This is the first time I have felt hungry for a while rather than just eating because I have to. Sae normally comes back later in the day to clear up after me but I feel like I have a new found energy and decide to clear up after myself. I saved a scrap of squirrel for Buttercup and let him eat it out of my hand. We seem to get on better now. Our mutual loss done that I guess.

I go upstairs and realised I haven't bathed in a while. I seem to avoid the mirror after everything. My hair still damaged in a few places. I almost have it long enough for a plat now. Without removing any clothing I can see the scars which seem to almost flicker on my neck and hands. I can't help but let out a small laugh. The girl who was on fire, literally. I strip off and skin seems to peel off with it. It makes me feel sick. I still don't have the stomach for this, even when it comes to me. Once in the bath I start to attack my hair. It's clumped in places and feels knotty beyond repair. Half an hour later I seem to have untangled most of it. The water still tingles on my new pink skin. I wash very gently to insure no tears or bleeding but it seems to of healed nice and strong. I get out of the bath and see myself in the mirror. Patch work. I wrap the towel around quickly and go to my room to get some fresh clothes.

I sit, and then lay on my bed looking out of the window. Maybe I have overreacted. Peeta must be safe to be around or he wouldn't have been sent home. Tomorrow I tell myself. If he comes over tomorrow I will try and say hi, or at least not hide under the table. I stare out of the window for rest of the day. My thoughts still scattered. I wonder about going out to the woods but dismiss the thought quickly. Jabbajays still haunt me. I also know my thoughts will trail off to Gale. I know he didn't send her there but I do know it was his bomb plan. I know how I sleep. I have no doubt that Peeta sleeps no better. I wonder how he sleeps though. He always thought that all is fair in love and war. He played it at the capitol's level; often stating what they did to Peeta was awful so why should we show restraint. Children though? I try not to think too much about it. The anger swells and makes my attempts at doing anything that day slimmer. Before long the sun sets and the moon gives the only light to my room. I roll over; not bothering to undress and go into what must have been a fitful sleep. When I wake up the blanket is on the floor and sheets have been pulled from under the bed.

Not long have I aroused when I hear a knock at the door. I stretch and make my way down stairs. The door is pushed open before I get to it. I stop moving immediately when I see him. He looks older. Bags under his glazed eyes, he clearly isn't sleeping much. I can't help but notice those scars again, where the flames licked the side of his face. He still stands up straight though. Peeta looks as hesitant of me as I am of him. This only makes me more nervous. I notice he is clutching a small basket with bread poking out of it. His knuckles are bruised.

"Morning." Its half-hearted but accompanied with a half-smile.

"How are you feeling today?" After seeing him I don't know why I asked. Clearly he still isn't right.

He shrugs. "Better I guess. I have been keeping busy baking again." He seems to scowl at the bread he is carrying. "Cheese bread is your favourite."

Amazing, he is starting to rememb-

"Real or not real?"

Somewhat.

"Real." I say with a small smile on my face. He seems to return this with a much more genuine smile. The basket is quiet big for just a loaf of bread. I wonder if there is more in there than just that. "Have you had breakfast?" He shakes his head. It doesn't look like he has eaten much for a while. "Would you like to join me for some?" I really don't know why I'm asking. The whole conversation seems so... wooden. We walk into the kitchen and he puts the basket down. He pulls out the bread and a jar of something. Jam! "Where did you get that?" It was half used but I haven't seen anything sweet since I can remember. 13 certainly didn't have anything of the sort other than... the wedding. I push away the thought.

"Greasy Sae brought it to me the other day. As a treat I guess. She said that they have found a patch of strawberries out in the woods, not too far away and managed to make a few jars of jam"

"I know the patch; I used to pick them for the mayor. He had a quiet thing for them. I guess not being picked for a while means there must be a lot."

Peeta seems to have frozen and thinking hard on what I last said. "With Gale? You use to pick them with him?"

Really? That's what he takes from that. "Sometimes." Somehow, I seem to be getting annoyed quickly with the conversation and my excitement for the jam has gone down. Peeta simply nods, looking like he is still processing it. I want the conversation to move on. I walk up next to him to help with the bread. He jumps at the sudden realisation that I'm besides him. I quickly take a step back with my hands in fists as he grabs the table almost to steady himself. He's eyes are shut tight and he breaths deeply. He is still terrified of me. I get some courage out of nowhere as I step towards him. I take hold of his closest hand gently and I can feel him shaking. It's just like it was in the capitol. "Peeta" His grip tightens on the table. Other than the shaking I'm not convinced he can move. I'm sure if he could he would run. "You're safe. You're in District 12."

He hisses. "Which got bombed because of you!"

"Not real Peeta!" Now isn't the time to get angry with him but that hit a nerve. I remind myself what Haymitch said. If it was you he would be doing everything to bring you back.

"The ins-and-outs of why 12 got bombed are long but it's not my fault personally. I didn't rain fire down myself."

The shaking stops but he stands still like a statue. His breathing still heavy and eyes clamped shut. I don't release my hand from him. I was told he gets like this by Haymitch. That he can take a long time to process things. After five minutes still nothing. I haven't dared to move. I can imagine one exchange in the wrong direction and this could end up with him attacking. Attacking me.

"Stay with me Peeta." I say in a hushed voice, not looking at him.

This seems to trigger something. He releases the table and drops to his elbows, resting, whilst he rubs his temples. His eyes are now open, staring down at the jam. I take a breath and finally feel like I can move. My legs have seized up from the tension of standing perfectly still. I grab a glass off of the shelf, fill it with water then put it in front of him. I grab a chair and put it behind him, nudging it into the back of his legs. He finally sits and sips at the water. He lets out a half-hearted laugh which concerns me. "I was doing better."

"I guess I just bring out the worst in you." Can't help but find my eyes wandering to the Primrose.

"That's not true. I only thought about doing something different with the plain bread when I thought I remembered you like cheese on it. I told Greasy Sae. She smiled and said she wouldn't deliver your bread anymore and if I wanted you to have it I had to come over. It's just, not easy." Peeta stopped rubbing his temples and stared down at his bruised hands. They shake and almost seem to twitch. They are not the steady hands which used to hold me anymore. I wonder if he can still paint.

I move over back over to his side and pick up the bread, slicing a bit off. I have only just noticed its plain today, clearly because of the jam. He watches me carefully, too carefully. I start to feel uneasy again but I'm sure he is feeling the same, seeing me with a knife. This is not going to get easier. I put the bread down on a couple of plates and let him spread his own jam. I finally get to take a bite and I let a smile take over. It's so sweet and delicious. I look over and see Peeta staring at me back with his own small grin.

"I haven't seen you smile in a long time." He says this staring back down at his bread.

"I could say the same to you."

We go back to our awkward silence but there is a lot less tension in the air. I notice his gaze go off to the coffee table by my chair. "That book, Dr Aurelius gave it to you?" I nod in response.

"He sent me one too. He wanted me to draw down any non-shiny memories. He thought if I did that, it would reinforce which memories were mine."

"And how's that going?"

"Awful." His hands move back to his temples again. "If I draw and the image gets warped I can have anything from a panic attack to rage fit. Other times my hands will just shake and make it impossible to draw anyway, which frustrates me."

I understand where those bruises come from now. I wonder what condition his house is in, if he is getting that angry.

"What about you, what do you need to do with yours?"

My jaw tenses. "I'm meant to use it as a dairy. Apparently I have tendencies to zone out. He thinks it would be good for me to time and date everything so I don't forget what I did and where." I'm feeling so annoyed by it all. I'm well enough to go home and I just want to be left alone. I should have the right to do what I want. I think I have earned that.

"Clearly you don't like that idea. Why don't you use it instead as a scrap book? You have known a lot of people to… not be around anymore. Why don't you documenting it, like your dad's book. The things you don't want to forget about those people with time?"

Like my dad's book? I hadn't thought about it using it like that. I stand up and walk to my room. I open up the wardrobe and pull out my dad's old hunting bag. I take it with me and sit down with Peeta again, opening up the bag. He turns in his seat looking down interestedly. Someone, probably Gale, rescued this bag again for me from district 13. It's pretty lucky really. Survived the bombing and came back to me, twice. I empty the contents of the bag carefully onto the table. The old tattered book falls out with a thump. I flick through the pages and as I get to the end, Peeta puts his hand out. He stops on a few drawings. His drawings.

"We spent a whole week working on this because someone 'slipped' on some ice." I frown. At least he is trying to make a joke.

"Actually I had to jump out of a tree over the electrified fence, but I never got around to telling you that." I shrug and push the book over so Peeta can have a proper look at it. I decide to look through the rest of my things. I find the silver parachute and instantly know what's contained inside it. Peeta looks up and scowls. "That's from the games, why on earth have you kept it?" Looking down at it, I remember all those times he was in the hospital and I clutched the pearl which in still inside. My little piece of Peeta. Untouched, still mine.

"Because it keeps something safe."

Peeta still looks very unamused but it seems to have his curiously. I take a deep breath as I start to unravel it. I finally open it and my face drops. I bite my bottom lip and stare at the empty container. Of course. I carried it with me on the day I went to the capitol. When I caught fire, so did my clothes; my clothes which contained the pearl. It's not fair. I even lost that.

"What did you have?" Such a soft tone of voice. Peeta clearly can see the pain on my face. I can see that he is trying his best to comfort me whilst keeping an arms distance.

"Something you gave me, something which I held onto most days. It was the pearl from the beach."

I can see the strain across his face. He is either trying to remember it or fight off some bad thoughts. I didn't think. I shouldn't have brought up the games. The awkward silence falls on the room again as I sit and fumble with the parachute.

"I found it, in a clam."

Generally where pearls come from but being sarcastic won't help right now. I nod as my bottom lip seems to tremble. This time Peeta gets up and walks over to the coffee table, picking up the book. He walks back over putting it down on the table. "We should work on it together. You can remember the people and I can attempt to draw them if my hands allow it. We can get Haymitch to help with the people we didn't know so well."

Both of us working on it together? Just like that? I don't know. Surely bringing up the wrong person or subject could become a catalyst for him. On the other hand I don't want to do it by myself. Even though it's a good idea, I think it would be very hard to write by myself. Maybe I can face it with someone else around. With Peeta around.

"We could give it ago."

"Who do you want to start with?"

Can't believe he is so ready to talk about all of this.

"You choose." This is a safer option. If he picks someone then there is less chance of him having an episode.

"Rue."

He looks me straight in the eyes. I don't know if this is challenging me or asking for approval. I'm sure it's the latter.

"I think I might be able to find a pen somewhere. But I don't have any pencils or paints for you to use." I look around but I can't think of anywhere I might have some. There was no artist in my family.

Peeta finishes his bread and stands up. He pulls out a strawberry tart out of the basket with a cheese loaf. The strawberry tart looks amazing. He clearly notices me staring at it. "Grab yourself a slice, I made it for you anyway. I'm going to go back home and pick up some paints. I will be right back." With that he walks off, taking the basket with him. How did it get to this? This morning we hardly seemed to want to be in the same room and now he wants to spend the rest of the day with me? I guess I want to spend the rest of the day with him. It's been too long since we have just been us and away from the cameras, propaganda, war or games. Maybe we have a shot at being friends now. I start to think what I can write about Rue. I grab the paper but remember I have no pen. I repeat what I know in my head instead.

Rue was 12 years old and came from district 11, the harvest district. She taught me the four note tune which meant the day's work is over. The more I think about her the more everything beautiful brings her to mind. I still see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I still see her in the mockingjays which I can hear from my house. She was an amazing tree climber, able to jump from one to another. She saved my life in the arena and trusted me partly because of the mockingjay pin. The pin which turned into the symbol for the rebellion. I turned into the mockingjay and then nothing but death followed. Most of which were my fault.

I find myself in the foetus position again. I wish Peeta would hurry back. At least with company I won't find myself drifting off to these thoughts. On the other hand if I told him about it, he would probably just agree and say it is my fault.

I wonder where he is. He has been a while for something he knows where they are. I wait a bit longer, occupying myself by doing the small bit of washing up from our breakfast. I put the jam away and cut a couple of slices of tart ready. I sit back down.

Still not here.

Watching the fire, I stroke Buttercup. It still seems strange he lets me do this. Stranger still, he purrs. A few hours pass and I look over at Peeta's house through the window. I can't see any movement. I guess I can't from here anyway.

I haven't been outside since returning to 12. I open the door to look. A few yards feel like miles as I start to walk out. I hold myself cross armed as I make my way over. It's not cold, I just feel vulnerable outside. I finally make it to his front door and knock. No answer. Knock. Still nothing. Pushing the door open I peak my head around. The house is pretty trashed. It looks like knives have been used on the walls. The banister is broken. There is a chair smashed in a corner and glass all over in the back room. Suddenly I feel very on edge again. I don't know where he is.

"Peeta?"

No reply. I venture in deeper careful of my step. I don't know if I should make noise so I don't startle him or stay quiet. I stick with my hunting skills and carefully walk up the stairs, minding the mess.

"Peeta?"

A whimper? I definitely heard a small sound coming from one of the rooms on the left. As I walk up to it I can see the door has been taken off its hinges. I take a peek. It's clearly his art room and some of the pictures are more disturbing than I remember him painting. The one which stands out the most is a dog crossed with a female human. It has jagged teeth and long snake like fingers with talons on the end. I can see in one of its hands, it holds a bow. I guess that's how he sees me. If he truly believed I could change into something like that, no wonder he attacked me back in the hospital. Before I know what was happening I was up against the wall with Peeta pinning my shoulders to it. His eyes look completely different from this morning. His pupils change size rapidly.


	2. Chapter 2

"Let go Peeta!" I struggle against the grip but it's no use. He just throws me back at the wall every time I get an inch.

"Why? So you can kill me mutt?"

"I thought we were over this mutt thing? It's me Katniss. You came back to your house to pick up some paints so we could do a project together."

"Together? Why would I want to do anything with you? Liar."

"Peeta this isn't you. I was with you only a few hours ago. You made me some bread and a strawberry tart. Don't you remember?"

He lets go and forces himself to the ground. He pulls back on his hair letting out an awful noise. I back away fast, keeping my back to the wall. At least if he pushes me into it again it won't hurt as much as being thrown into it. The next thing he does shocks me. He bites down hard on his arm. The pain seems like its bringing him back to his senses. Thinking about it, it's not the first time I have seen him do this. He wouldn't let me remove his cuffs when we were in the capitol because he used them to hurt himself. I move myself into the corner. My eyes dart around the room to see if there is an easy escape but it seems his fit of rage has sent me across to the opposite side.

"I'm sorry." He whimpers the same words several times. "Just leave, I don't want to hurt you again." Leave. As much as I want to, I can't. I'm the reason he is like this now.

I get down to his level and end up crawling across the floor. Now my body is shaking as I hold Peeta's shoulders. I sit down with him and attempt to keep him still. He collapses keeping in his tight ball into my lap. I put my arms completely around him and lower my head to on top of his. His tremors are violent.

"Why won't you leave?" It's like a whisper.

"I'm not going anyway." This is frustrating. Since when does he not want me around? I look back over at the paintings. "Why did this start?" My voice is calm for once as I stroke a couple of blond locks out of his face. He doesn't look up at me. His eyes are sealed shut again. "I-I saw the paintings and they triggered it."

Looking back around at them I can see why. "Surely you painted these images to make you feel better not worse?"

"No. Well yes. They start off that way. I told you earlier, didn't I? They can get warped with other memories."

"They're not your memories Peeta. They are what the capitol wanted you to believe." I get up; mad at the images around the room that they could cause something like this. I pick the pictures up gently. As much as I would like to destroy them, I don't think that would help either. I simply take them down, make them face the wall and repeat until they are all gone.

"There. You can open your eyes. They are gone." Peeta is still curled up; biting what appears to be an end to a paintbrush. I pick up some tubes of paint, a few brushes, pencils and pens I find lying around. I see he brought up the basket, no doubt to fill it with his art supplies. I drop them in and go back over to him. He seems to be finally calming down. His eyes are open but like with the jam, fixated on a single point.

I've never been any good with this sort of thing. I've rarely been able to comfort anyone. Peeta has always been the one to look after me since all of this has happened. I guess that just means I have try harder now.

"Do you have any medicine from Dr Aurelius?" I'm trying to be as gentle as I can with the subject. The doctor gave me lots of different tablets. They are in my house, somewhere. I have no urge to take them though.

"I don't want them. I stopped taking them about a week ago. They just made me sleep and feel numb all the time."

Sounds like the same stuff I got given.

"However, there is a bottle of tablets next door. They help stop the shaking."

Before he asks, I am up and walking towards the other rooms. It's only just occurred to me that I haven't actually been in his house before. Some of the rooms are untouched, remembering his family never moved in with him. They decided to keep the bakery running. It must have been lonely here.

I find his night stand and it's littered with different medicines. I recognise a couple of them. The one I have myself and the other is a bottle of sleep syrup. I pick them all up and return to the art room. I put the two I know in the basket with the paints. The other four I lay out in front of Peeta. He grabs the bottle he wants. The tablets inside make it sound like a rattle in his hands. It takes him a while to get the lid open. I'm not going to do everything for him. I'm sure it would only come across insulting anyway.

Once he gets it open, he takes two and passes the bottle back to me. I pick up the rest and put them in with the other medicines. If he is going to come over, I want everything he has in case of an episode. I'm reminded of the time in the cave when I smooshed the berries up and added the sleep syrup. He wasn't very happy with me doing that, but it did save his life. On the other hand if he is having a fit of rage, I don't think I can make him sit down and eat or drink anything. I let out a heavy exhale whilst thinking.

In the end I move back over to his side, lying down behind him, playing with his hair. I can see why he used to do this; it's quite therapeutic even when you're not the one receiving. Fairly quickly Peeta's shaking seems to quell. I stand up, extending my hand to him. "Come on, let's go."

Rolling over to face me, he grabs my hand and pulls himself up. He doesn't let go when he is standing. Instead keeping hold, he moves over to the basket and picks it up with his free hand. I don't pull away, although the thought he could potentially crush my hand makes me a little nervous.

Going down the stairs I can feel how my back has clearly been bruised from the push. As we reach the front door I scowl, looking outside. Peeta clearly notices and gives my hand a reassuring squeeze as we walk out, across to my house.

Once we are back in, I realise we are not going to start on the book today. I don't think either of us are up to it now. I lead Peeta into the front room and sit him down by the fire. I carefully put myself down beside him. My back aches. We sit there in silence our hands still entwined. I can tell he still wants to apologise by the look on his face but I won't hear it. I start to drop off. The problem is I don't do very much anymore and strangely not doing very much of anything, makes you very tired. Depression probably doesn't help.

The next thing I know I wake up in my bed. Still in my clothes from the day before but I've been carried up and tucked in. Everything to do with the bed is in place and I don't remember having any nightmares.

I change my clothes and notice the purple bruises in the mirror. Both shoulder blades took a decent beating.

I go downstairs and to my surprise see Peeta still asleep on the sofa. He clearly got a spare blanket from the other room last night and has cocooned himself in it. It's strange to see him here. He could have stayed with me last night. On the other hand if he attacked me during the night I think I would have had it. Maybe he doesn't trust himself.

I make my way to the kitchen and see a bunch of fresh bread has been made. There is too much for us so he must have made the batch for Sae and the people in town. This means he must have gone home to get the ingredients because I certainly don't have any. Why didn't he just stay there over the night?

I see the tart has been started now. I grab the other already pre-cut slice. With a plate I take it to the other room, sitting in front of the sofa.

I was lost in a trail of thought, until a sudden touch on the back of my head made me jump. Buttercup who had joined me, hissed at the sudden movement.

"Morning…" He murmurs.

I swallow hard and catch my breath, trying to get my heart to stop pounding in my chest. I manage a nod. He shifts on the sofa, getting into a sitting position. "How's your back?"

"Sore," I answer truthfully. "How did you sleep?"

He shrugs. "You fell asleep last night so I put you to bed. I then went home but… when I saw the state of it I could feel myself losing it. So I picked up some ingredients and made bread here. I guess seeing how a house should be, made me reflect on how much damage I have actually done. I hope that was okay?"

I shrug in response. I don't really know how I feel about him being here. My gaze goes around the house. The place is only tidy because I haven't really moved in it for the few months I have been back. The table though, is still cluttered with what I emptied onto it yesterday. No idea when I will put that way. I have no real motivation to do anything, so nothing is out of place because they haven't been moved. Then again, comparing it to walls which look like a wild animal has run through, I suppose I can see his point.

Peeta stretches and unwraps himself from the blanket. For someone who has always been a morning person he seems very out of it. Only then do I notice the bottle of sleep syrup by the end of the sofa. I frown. "You shouldn't take too much of that stuff."

"You would know." He shoots back, obviously referring to the time in the cave. I turn my frown to him and get up with my now empty plate to return it to the kitchen. I can see in the corner of my eye he tightens a fist. Regretting what he said maybe. Regardless there is no apologue to follow.

I really don't want to spend the whole day being bitter so I clear two spaces and put his basket on the table. The book is still there. I take out a pen and start to write down what I thought about Rue yesterday. It's certainly easier to write about a person than talk about them. It's not long before Peeta comes out to join me. He drags the chair from under the table and sits down, overlooking my shoulder. He gives a warm smile whilst reading what is on the paper. Once I am done I push the book over to him.

"Think you can draw her again?" He looks at me confused. Even memories which don't concern me seem to be amiss. "You drew her during your," I pause. "Second assessment." I choose my words carefully. He gives a small nod. I'm not convinced he remembers but I'm not going to push it.

It's calming to watch Peeta draw. I forgot how engrossed I can get into it. Half way through he stops and looks at me.

"Do you remember when we had only just really met Haymitch and he annoyed you, so you slammed down a knife between his fingers? His expression." Peeta smiles.

I grin remembering it well. "However that was nothing compared to Effie's." In my best capitol voice I repeat "That. Is. Mahogany!" Not forgetting to make the last part of the word higher than the rest. We both laugh.

"We should fill the book with those sorts of memories too," I suggest.

"Sure."

And we did, the rest of the day was filled with happy memories. Lady licking Prim's cheek. My father's laugh. Peeta's father with the cookies. Greasy Sae came in half way through the day to pick up the bread, surprised to see it at mine rather than Peeta's. She simple smiled and let us be. We carried on. The colour of Finnick's eyes. What Cinna could do with a length of silk. Boggs reprogramming the Holo. Rue and her impression of a bird.

We are both smiling by the time we finish for the day. Peeta's hands seem to have stayed steady and I managed to focus on something for more than a couple of hours.

"We can't just give up can we? We really should carry on to the best of our ability. To make their deaths count."

I'm a little shocked at what Peeta came out with but it made sense. We both have been feeling pretty sorry for ourselves. Sometimes I think me more than him. At least he gets up in the morning to do something. I should go out hunting again.

"Sure. We should let Haymitch in on this too. Maybe he can shed some light on some of the other tributes."

Peeta nods and we both look out of the window. It's dark already. "Maybe not tonight, though."

I look over at the counter and see that Sae has left us both some dinner which we didn't even notice. Peeta gets up before I even make a move and starts to pour the soup into a pan. He turns on the stove and starts to warm up the broth. Rather than cutting the bread he simple breaks the loaf in half and puts it in the oven to warm up. I get up and start to tidy the table making space for dinner. I get out a couple of spoons and bowls. Peeta brings over the soup and fills them up. He grabs both parts of the bread and puts them down on the table. It wasn't enough to start cooking them again but it made them nice and warm. We eat in a comfortable silence. We talked enough during the day. Once dinner was done I cleared away the bowls and started to wash up. Peeta disappeared over to the front room. I finish with the dishes and find Peeta has got the fire going. He is sat in front of it and I kneel down to join him. Buttercup clearly didn't want to miss out and joins us on the rug.

Our hands seem to find each other again as we watch the flames flicker.

"I'm thinking about going out hunting tomorrow."

"Great, I will come with you." He has a big smile on his face and I shoot him a questioning look. He lets the smile drop and shakes his head. "I'm joking. I'm still no quieter on my feet… well foot." I can't help but look down at his left leg. I still haven't seen it after all this time. He is always wearing long trousers.

Peeta lets go of my hand and shifts his position. He rolls up his trousers to his knee. For the first time I see where he stops and the prosthetic begins. It's made out of metal with a ball like joint where it connects to his shoe. He rolls the trousers back down before I can stare anymore. "It keeps me going."

I only can nod in response. I grab hold of his hand again feeling a sudden rush of guilt. I know the knot saved his life but how much does he have to live with? Burns, one leg and a hijacked mind. All of which could easily be blamed on me.

I move his hand to the side, making him slightly off balance but only long enough so I can curl under his arm. I can feel his whole body tense under this sudden embrace. I keep my head tucked down into his chest. Slowly his hands wrap around me. After a while I feel him run his hand up my back. I wince as he touches the bruising. I feel my hair being pushed aside and notice the light tug on the back of my shirt. It's a quick look. I hear his teeth clamp together.

"It's not that bad." The words come out so quietly I wonder if he heard me.

"It's dark purple" He growls. I'm fairly sure his frustration is at himself this time. "I'm so sorry." He lets his arms drop to the side. I don't let go.

"Nothing compared to what I have inflicted on you." I tilt my head up to look at him but his eyes are closed again.

"When are we going to stop doing this? When are you going to stop protecting me? I don't need it anymore. It's you. You need protecting. From me! You didn't try to…" He stops. It looks like he is trying to find the right words.

"I didn't try to what-"

"To kill me!"

He admitted it. That's the first time he seems convinced I haven't tried to kill him for the past two years.

He puts his hands on my shoulders and gently tries to break my grasp. "Please let go Katniss. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I won't let myself hurt you anymore." His voice breaking, clearly straining out the last few words.

I let go, only so I can look him straight in the eye. "Stay with me Peeta." I can feel my voice going too. Our faces seem to mirror each other.

He stares back. I can see his jaw mussels tense. I shift, bringing my knees up. Before I become a complete ball, Peeta moves back over and hugs me, placing his head in my neck.

"Always," he whispers.

We don't move for as long as we can. In the end we both shift trying to get comfortable on the floor but we are both clearly starting to ache. I move back and trace my hand down his arm until I find his hand. I tug on it and we migrate to the sofa. I rest my head on his lap and he starts to play with my hair. A smile escapes as I remember the day on top of the training centre. It's not long before I start to drift off.

Half way through the night I stir, not due to a nightmare, just being uncomfortable. The blanket has been pulled over me. I have a great need to stretch. I sit up slowly trying not to disturb Peeta. I needn't have bothered as I see he is still awake. "We don't need to keep watch you know." I can see my teasing didn't go down well as stands and rubs his temples.

"I can't sleep, if I have a nightmare I might wake up… hijacked."

So he doesn't trust himself around me. He is clearly tired and starting to nod off. I stand up forcing myself to wake up and gently push him back down to the sofa. I pick up the blanket and wrap it around him. I sit back down beside him and lean him against my shoulder. "Go to sleep. I can stay up." Just like that we are back in the cave. Taking shifts. He doesn't argue and wraps his arms around mine.

"Wake me if anything interesting happens."

I watch the dying embers for the rest of the night until I feel a sudden squeeze on my arm. I look down expecting him to be awake but he's not. His body tenses up but doesn't move or thrash about. He told me once, that when he has a nightmare I don't notice because he doesn't move. He becomes paralyzed with fear. I could wake him up and just be ready for whatever happens or leave it; he will have to wake up eventually. I decide to go with the first knowing he wouldn't let me suffer. I shake his shoulder gently with my free hand. "Wake up Peeta, you're having a nightmare." Nothing. I shake a little harder repeating the same words. He comes to, abruptly, pushing himself away from me and panting. His eyes darting around clearly disorientated.

"Its fine, you're safe." I don't dare to move closer. I just wait for him to start to calm down. When he finally catches his breath the tremors start. I get up and bring back two tablets for him. He takes them without question.

Neither of us fall back to sleep. Peeta gets up and starts to make the bread. I leave him to it as I go upstairs to get my bow and arrows. No need to hide them out in the woods anymore. I shout a goodbye into the kitchen. It's not returned. I walk out the door and the sudden breeze makes me glad I'm wearing my father's jacket. I take a few deep breaths and walk out into the fields.

The woods are not quite the safe sanctuary I remember them being. Birds flying low makes me duck and cover my ears. I sigh, wondering how successful the hunt will be. I start with a few snares in the normal places. Later, I take up my bow and get a couple squirrels. I still manage to hit them between the eyes. I head back towards home, knowing the snares will encourage me to go out again tomorrow.

As I enter Victor's Village I walk over to Haymitch's house. He is already up, dressed and feeding his geese, with a bottle in his spare hand. Some improvement is better than none.

"Morning sweetheart. What brings you to the outside world suddenly?" He smiles and I think he is glad to see me.

"The fact you haven't visited me. Thought you were meant to be watching me like a hawk?" I watch the geese, not wanting to make eye contact.

"Girl, you would have thrown something at me before I set foot through that door."

Going back a couple of weeks ago I probably would have.

"Let's face it; you're not the best company." Very true. Haymitch, Peeta and I all have bones to pick with each other. I'm hoping with enough time these can be set aside.

"Do you want to join us for lunch today?" I roll an empty bottle with my left foot.

"Us? Being you and Greasy Sae? You and Delly? You and-"

"Peeta." I snap. His attitude can really grind on me fast. I'm losing my patience for this conversation.

"Miss me that much then?" I can just tell he has a big sarcastic smile on without even looking.

"If you want lunch, be over at 12." I turn on my heel and walk off to the house, dumping my bow down by the door and the squirrels on the table.

The house smells strongly of baked goods. It's a pacifying smell.

Not long have I been in when Sae comes over. We exchange pleasantries and I hand her both of the squirrels in exchange for the food. Peeta comes out to say hello and passes her half a dozen loafs.

"I'm feeling much better now. Thanks for all the food you have provided. I can start making it up to."

"Don't worry girl. You have helped most through the worst times in the Seam. If you and Gale didn't go out and hunt, we would have all been worse off. About time someone else was able to help you." I give a half smile as I wave her on her way.

"Hows Haymitch? Is he coming today?"

"His normal cheerful drunken self. He might pop over, I don't know. I think he is on edge about all three of us being in the same room."

Peeta shrugs. "Can't blame him."

We start preparing lunch. Peeta still has one lot of bread in the oven and I unwrap what is left of the tart, dividing it into three pieces. There is enough mixed animal stew to easily go around three as both Peeta and I don't eat much. Buttercup mews and I drop him some meat.

I clear the table, carefully putting items back in the hunting bag or out of the way. I put my parents wedding photo back up on the side, where it was originally taken from. We wait a while after noon, to see if Haymitch will turn up. After nothing we decide we should tuck in. Just as I'm about to put the first lot of food in my mouth, he staggers in. We have seen him much worse and no doubt he just downed a load for courage. At least he is here. Peeta pulls out a chair for him and puts the food from the side down in front of him. He stares at his fork for a while. I wonder if he has forgotten how to use it.

"How you doing boy?" His gaze still on the fork.

"Better. How's yourself?"

Haymitch drives his fork into the food, skewering a bit of meat. "Same old, same old." He says with his mouth full.

Peeta and I both give each other a look as if to say, we can see that.

I don't know how to bring up the book with Haymitch so I wait until we finish lunch and the tart before passing the book over to him.

"What's this?" Without a prompt he starts to flick through the pages. His eyebrows rise. "Why did you show me this?"

"We were hoping you might want to talk about some of the other tributes. You knew them for much longer than us. We feel like they all should be… honoured." Peeta says looking like he is starting to find his words again.

I expect an abrupt no followed by him walking out. Instead we are greeted by a nod and a bottle being pulled out of his pocket.

We work on the book again, all three of us. Haymitch tells us stories about Maggs and Chaff. Brilliant and somewhat bizarre things Wiress and Beetee came up with in the past. Haymitch recalls some jokes Finnick used to tell. Everything gets written down.

By the end of the evening Haymitch is fairly sober as he hasn't stopped talking long enough to drink. Our sides hurt from how much we have been laughing.

"I wonder how Annie is doing." Peeta says blankly. This brings down the mood slightly, although it takes my attention back to the large pile of letters I have collected. I walk over and find the one which has the district four stamp. I go back over to the table and open it. A picture falls out of a baby. We all stare at it. The both look at me expectantly. Annie. The letter didn't make a great deal of sense but we did understand that the baby is Finnick's son. She had him a few weeks ago. I glue the picture and note into the book with his name written at the top. Zale Fin Odair. Once the picture is in, we all can't help but let out a smile as we close the book for the evening.

"Well, it's actually been fun. I'm gonna love ya and leave ya, you two. Goodnight." Haymitch gets up, not forgetting his bottle and leaves.

It's not very late however we are both tired, thanks to neither of us getting much sleep last night.

"Go and get ready for bed." Peeta smiles and I must look a little confused. "Sleeping down here won't do your back any good." His smile drops.

I don't argue. I get up and make my way to the bathroom. I bush my hair attempting to keep it in some sort of order and then move onto my teeth. I go into my bedroom and get into my nightgown. I get into bed and wait, although I don't know what I'm waiting for. A few minutes later Peeta knocks on the door.

"Come in."

He walks in and sits on the edge of my bed. Gently, he pulls the covers over me. Peeta pushes a few stray hairs behind my ear and gets up to leave.

"Don't go."

"I can't stay here. It isn't safe." He doesn't turn to face me.

"Can't I judge that for myself?" I grip the blanket in my hand wishing it was his.

Peeta leaves and quietly closes the door behind him. I roll around until I get comfortable. I think I would rather take shifts than be alone. For the last couple of night I haven't had any nightmares. A sinking feeling takes over with the realisation that won't be the same tonight. As tired as I am, I fight falling asleep. Just as I feel it take over I hear footsteps coming closer. I bolt upright in case one of his episodes has taken over. The door opens slowly and he makes his way back over to me. Peeta kneels down, crossing his arms, resting them on the side of the bed. I can see he's clutching something.


	3. Chapter 3

"Do you really want me to stay here?"

I nod, still unsure what he holds. He gets up to sit on the side. He starts to twist what he has in his hands and puts it to his mouth with his head back. I can see now it's a bottle. Sleep syrup. I scowl. I know he can't see it in this light. "You are going to find it very hard to wake up from that come morning."

He shrugs putting the bottle down on my nightstand. "That's the plan." He gets under the sheets and holds up his arm. I curl into his side like I've done so many times before. "Are you only doing this for me?" Too late. He is already out.

I wake up several times screaming, panting, panicking. Peeta slept through it all. At least one of us will have a goodnight sleep. Every time I work my way back into his side and try to get a few more hours.

I slept in longer than I expected to. Peeta was still soundo. I got up trying to not disturb him and took my bow and arrows back down stairs. I had a habit of making sure they were in my bedroom. Once I get down stairs I find any other medicine Peeta could possible want and put them on the bed stand with a glass of water.

I make my way to the woods, checking the snares first. Two rabbits and one pheasant. This was easily enough to go back with but I relay the traps and go further out. I shoot down one squirrel and an additional rabbit.

When I make it back to the house I'm greeted by Sae and her granddaughter. Sae looks at me with a concerned expression.

"Have you seen Peeta? He isn't home and there is no bread made here or there." I know she isn't really concerned about the bread. I wasn't too sure what to say.

"He is probably still sleeping."

Sae looks at me with raise eyebrows. I really couldn't care less. Almost all of Panem believes I was pregnant with his child at one point and we have never stopped to correct anyone.

"Sorry that there is no bread today. He might be up for making some later. You can have this though." I pass her all the game apart from one rabbit which I keep for us. She nods taking the food. Clearly she has nothing else to say on the matter.

After she leaves, I go to check on Peeta. He's still sleeping but seems to start stirring as I sit down on the bed. He arises much calmer today. I don't know if that has anything to do with the sleep syrup. He gives a nice warm smile and I can't help but return it. He turns his head to the window.

"What time is it?"

"About noon." His facial expression drops.

"I didn't make the bread this morning. I wonder if I have time before Greasy Sae comes by."

I shake my head. "She's already been. She was quiet worried when she didn't find bread at yours or here."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said you were still sleeping. I gave her a rabbit and such so she didn't seem too fussed. You seem… bright this morning." I start to twiddle my fingers, not knowing where I'm going with this.

He stretches, still looking cheerful. "Yeah. I feel it. First full night sleep. I don't remember having any nightmare or anything. How about you? How did you sleep?"

I shrug. "I had nightmares throughout the night but it was pretty easy to go back to sleep again."

"Sorry I didn't notice. "

"It doesn't matter. You were out like a light as soon as you took that stuff. You clearly needed a good night sleep." I take his hand to reassure him it was alright.

"I guess I should go home and have a bath." He lets out a small laugh. "And get some clean clothes." His smile leaves his face quickly. I think for the same reason I'm feeling uneasy. I'm worried about him going back there. Last time didn't go too well for only picking some stuff up. Other than the shakes, panics and random snaps he hasn't completely lost it here.

"I can go." I offer. "I can pick up some clothes and you can have a bath here whilst I'm out."

He frowns trying to process this. In the end he gives a slow nod.

I get him a clean towel and I make my way to his. I take my hunting bag with me. It's the only way I can think of carrying his stuff back.

The house seems eerie. It's cold where no fire has burnt for a while and the air smells still. The destruction, which is evident no matter where you look, sends a shiver down my spine. My back seems to throb out of sympathy. At least this time I know he isn't here and I can move freely.

I go upstairs and divert my eyes from seeing into the art room and head straight for Peeta's room. I open his wardrobe, taking whatever is nearest. I find a draw containing his underwear and socks. On top is a small bottle. I pick it up thinking it might be some more medicine but when it rattles it sounds like only one thing is in there. The bottle is clear and I see immediately what it is. Nightlock! After all this time he has managed to keep it. How on earth did he bring it here? I am torn with what to do. After contemplating throwing it out, I put it back where I found it.

I sling the bag over my shoulder and pick up his toothbrush from the bathroom. In the kitchen I find any food and take that too. No point letting it go to waste.

When I get back I shout through the bathroom door that I'm home.

"Could you throw in some clothes then please?"

I hesitate. He knows full well I'm funny about this. He was the one who made fun of me for it!

I open the door ever so slightly and push the bag containing everything through, with the door as tight as possible. I do nothing but stare at the ground and yank the door shut as soon as I can.

"I said some clothes, not all of them!"

I can hear him laughing behind those words. I storm off down the stairs and start to rip the rabbit's fur off.

After lunch the book makes its way to the table again. I pick some Primrose flowers and glue them carefully in. Peeta gets an idea to paint the Primrose in glue because he thinks it might help preserve them slightly. We write about school and all the things we can remember about the district before our first reaping.

"I think that's it. I can't think of anything else we can add to this book." I smile and feel somewhat accomplished. There is only half a dozen pages left blank.

Peeta doesn't return the same rejoice and instead, is lost in his own trail of thought.

Over the last few days I have learnt to wait these out. There isn't any point asking him any more questions or trying to encourage an answer. He will get there, in his own time.

After a while he replies. "There is something missing. Us. We are missing. We don't talk about ourselves at all."

"I don't want to talk about myself," I reply swiftly.

"Then let's write a page about each other."

I feel very uneasy about this. A few wrong words and this could escalate quickly.

"It might help me piece more back together."

He's right. I really can't argue against this. "We can take it in turns." I add.

"Ladies first."

At the top of the page I simple write. The boy with the bread.

The girl on fire. Peeta inscribes on the page opposite.

Saved everyone's life in13.

Offered herself as tribute for her sister.

Amazing artist.

Perfect shot.

Great public speaker.

Birds fall silent when she sings.

These were nice but they were more facts than memories. I let it go, I would rather the book be full of nice things than hard to swallow ones. Peeta keeps the book this time and starts to draw in one the corners. I'm happy for the break.

"How much of the first games were real?" Peeta doesn't stop drawing.

Where did this come up from? I guess I knew we would have this talk at some point. I look down at the book. So much for staying simple.

"Not much. I did want to save your life. I owed you that."

Peeta continues shading in.

"What about the quarter quell?"

I bite my bottom lip and pull my jumper over the ends of my hands, rubbing the fabric between my fingers.

"That was different." I take a deep breath and Peeta puts down the pen. He isn't looking at me but I can tell he is going to take in every word I say. "I made Haymitch promise to get you out instead of me. When we were in the arena, and you hit that force field…" I don't know how to explain it. "I panicked. I really thought you were dead. I guess you might think it would have been better if you did now. The capitol would have never had you."

"I guess you could say that, but I wouldn't go that far."

"Wouldn't you?" My turn to ask questions. "Why do you still have Nightlock? I found it thinking it was a bottle of medicine."

He shrugs and picks up the pencil again. I snatch it away.

"You could have mistaken it for medicine in one of your states!"

"If I was in a state it wouldn't matter then would it!" He hisses, standing up and shouting down at me.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it's true! If I'm like that I would rather die than kill someone else again! I see him every night Katniss." He strikes the table with his fist and sits back down. "His mangled body hanging there. All because he stopped me from killing you."

"You would have rather killed me?" I know that's not what he meant but his temper is rubbing me up the wrong way.

"No! Don't be so stupid. I shouldn't have been trying to kill anyone! Regardless, you're one to talk."

I raise my eyebrows out of shock. "I thought they were going to execute me."

"But they didn't."

"You had no way of knowing that at the time! You were the one being selfish in that situation. If I remember correctly, which is more likely than you, you said that you would rather die as yourself than something you're not. I was trying die on my terms, not theirs!"

"So how is me having nightlock any different?" His elbows smack the table and his hands grab the back of his head.

"Because you would die as a capitol mutt, not as Peeta."

He looks at me surprised. I think at the word mutt being used against him instead of me.

"Peeta," I try to calm down and soften my tone. "You are safe now. You don't need it anymore. I thought that extra time with Dr Aurelius was meant to have helped you. "

"It did. I felt much better when I left, in control even. But then I came back here." His hands make fists on the table. I push my chair back a little to make room to run if I need to. "You… you still don't know what affect you can have on people."

I look away. I don't think he means that in the way he used to. I drag my nail down the groves of the table following them around. Peeta sits there, rubbing his temples. After a while he picks up the pencil again and continues to draw.

"What are you drawing?" My voice much quieter than before. I'm done shouting.

"You."

Images flash back to some of his paintings. "As a mutt?"

He shakes his head. "No, just as you. You don't have a photo for your page."

He continues sketching without even looking up at me once. He must have drawn me a fair few times by now. I think back to when I saw his paintings on the train. I can't help but smile slightly. He doesn't even need a reference.

It doesn't take him long to finish. He passes the book to me. As expected his drawing is perfect. Although he has drawn my hair back in its normal plat, something I haven't been able to do since the fire.

"That's not how I look." I say softly, smiling at him.

He shrugs. "It won't take you long to grow it back like that."

He's right. It's now only too short in a few places. A plat currently would still fall out. Peeta pushes the pencil over to me and nods at it expectantly.

"I can't draw."

"Well try." He looks at me hopefully.

It's amazing how quickly his mood can change. I guess he puts it to the back of his mind, no doubt to dwell on it later.

I pick up the pencil and draw a stick figure holding what's meant to be a loaf of bread. I attempt some hair but it more looks like a spiky monster sitting on top of his head.

"There." I say frankly.

Peeta laughs. "I hope I'm not quiet that skinny."

I smile as he takes the book back. He starts to draw some lines on one side of the stickman's face and shades it in slightly. "Now it's done."

I'm confused. He draws my hair in perfectly yet makes a point to draw in his scars.

"Why?" He knows what I mean.

"Because that's how I am now."

"But you didn't draw my hair singed."

"No, because it will grow back but I have to learn to live with this." He smiles. There is no bitterness in his voice, just a matter of fact tone. My hand reaches for his face and I see him wince slightly. I don't let that stop me as I run my finger over his left eyebrow. I feel little hairs prick against my digit. I smile. "Your eyebrow is starting to grow back" His hand greets mine and holds it to his face. My thumb starts to caress his cheek.

"Is it still sore?"

He shakes his head slowly not breaking eye contact with me, his hand gripping mine slightly tighter. Holding my breath I move closer until I find his lips. It's soft, not frantic and short. As I pull away his forehead finds mine and rests there for a while. His eyes remain closed. We don't move. It's different kissing like this, privately.

We don't kiss again for a long time but Peeta doesn't leave my house. I hunt every few days, when I can manage it, trading what we don't need. We look after ourselves now, seeing Sae only to give her the daily bread. She doesn't even check Peeta's old place anymore.

Haymitch pops over for dinner every now and then. We try to keep regular contact, attempting to rebuild a friendship. He doesn't get as drunk as he used to and has his geese to distract him when he runs out of liquor.

During the day, after he has finished baking, Peeta makes his way back to his old place. He has started to fix up the rooms one by one. We only discussed it once but thought no one living there was a waste. Peeta wanted to fix what he had destroyed before passing it to a needy family. We sleep together every night cuddled up. I still wake up screaming and Peeta has more relapse in the morning than any other time of the day. He doesn't take any medicine to help him sleep anymore and tremors have eased. Violent outbreaks are becoming less and less. When he does have one he can normally take it to another room. It's still fairly common to see him shut off from a conversation and hold onto a table, fighting off memories but these don't scare me anymore.

Some days I can't face getting out of bed. Mainly when I know we have plenty of food because there is no need to hunt. On those days I cling to Peeta begging him not to get up. He will finally pry me off so he can start baking and a pillow takes his place. As soon as he is done, he comes back and doesn't leave my side. Normally by early afternoon he has coax me up.

Our days consist quiet strongly of routine as it seems to keep both of us more focused.

After Peeta leaves in the morning I rarely get back to sleep and this morning was no exception. Rather than just lying there like I would normally, I decide on getting up. He seems surprised when I walk into the kitchen.

"Can I help?" I take one of the bowls with the dough and start to knead it as Peeta has shown me. "Are you going to the house today? You haven't been in a few days."

Peeta doesn't say anything and continues to put dough into baking tins. I know he hasn't shut off because he is still moving and his eyes are still open. This means he is ignoring me on purpose which isn't like him.

"What's wrong?"

He stops what he is doing and leans on the counter. "That's exactly it, nothing is wrong. The house is all fixed up. It has been for a week."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because…" He looks like he is trying to search for the right words. "Because now it's finished that means someone else can move in."

I'm puzzled. I'm sure that's what we discussed a couple of months ago. Unless he is now having second thoughts and wants to move back in there. In a small voice I ask. "Do you want to move back?"

Peeta wipes his hands on the cloth and walks over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "No. Of course not. It just makes this… a lot more real." He smiles which seems to turn more into a smirk. I just feel more relief than anything else. I push my way into a hug. But he is right. It's kind of like we are taking another step, even though we have already been living together for almost 4 months.

He rubs my back. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to worry you."

I shake my nestled head. "It's okay." Pausing for thought I add. "We should celebrate."

"Really? What do you have in mind?"

I look out the window. "We should go out."

Peeta lets a small frown form. Other than going between here to his and to Haymitch's, he hasn't really gone out. Sae asked if he would like to start delivering the bread and he refused, stating he wasn't ready. I wasn't going to give up so easily.

"We could go to town and see how the construction is going or go to the woods?"

Peeta sighed. "So much for a treat." But it finished with a smile on his face. "Your father use to take you swimming somewhere out there, real?"

After some time he dropped the 'not real' at the end. He only uses it now if he is in a state of panic, normally shouting both over and over again, until someone can give him an answer.

"Real. Do you want to see it?" He nods and starts loading the tins into the oven.

Whilst he continues working on the bread I start packing for our day out. Spare clothes in case we want to go swimming, a towel, a blanket to sit on, half a loaf with some cheese and an already cooked rabbit and Peeta's sketch book with a pencil.

By the time I come I go back into the kitchen, after zoning in and out a few times, the bread is done and cooling.

"Ready to go?" I can tell by his facial expression he isn't. He analyses the basket and then looks at me.

"Are you not taking your bow?"

"No need to, we're not going that far out and I don't want to carry game around today."

Peeta's eyebrows narrow as he picks up a knife and tucks it into his belt. Even now, this sort of action puts me on edge. "I'll take my bow, but you don't take a knife."

"But what if-" I cut him off quick.

"Nothing will happen. Trust me. I'll take my bow and if a squirrel decides to jump you I'll take it down first."

Joking around didn't go down too well as he somewhat throws the knife back into the draw. Maybe I should have been a little bit more delicate, thinking about the first time I went into the woods and ducked from some birds. I take my bow and quiver and meet Peeta by the door. He has the bag slung over his shoulder and I hold out my hand. He takes it and we precede through the meadow out into the woods.

Peeta spends a lot of time looking up at the trees.

"What are you looking for?"

"Monkeys," he mumbles.

"There isn't anything like that out here." I don't dare tell him about the wild dogs. It would cause needless worry as they haven't come this way in a very long time.

Peeta seems to start to relax and I get some feeling back into my hand. It doesn't take long to get to the pond. I grin as I see the water shining in the sunlight. It's been so long since I have been here.

We place the blanket down in a sunny spot. I remove my bow and place it beside me with Peeta accompanying me on my left.

"Do you remember the day we had to ourselves on top of the training centre?"

I nod, pleased Peeta still remembers.

The day goes passed quickly. We skip rocks on the water. Rather than having a swim we both dip our legs into the pond and I find a katniss plant, to show Peeta. After lunch we lay back on the blanket looking at the clouds, calling out what we think they look like. Before it gets dark we pack up and start heading towards home.

"Thank you for dragging me out."

I smile. "It's not that bad and you'll get more and more comfortable with it. Things just take time. Anyway, I'm happy I got to see this place again. I haven't been here since my father."

"Really?" There is an element of surprise in his voice and I can guess why.

"Really. It was too lonely to come here by myself and I didn't feel like sharing it with anyone else." I shrug. I look over to him and see a small smirk across his face. "What are you so happy about?" I playfully frown.

"The fact that I think for the first time, you've actually shared something meaningful with me."

"Now that's not true. I've told you my favourite colour." Peeta lets out half a laugh and shakes his head.

The sun starts to set as we make our way through the meadows. Peeta pulls me back by my hand stopping me and jesters a nod upwards. We only leave as the last bit of light flees the sky. Whilst clasping his hand I snake my arm around his and rest my head on his shoulder as we walk back.

As we go through the door we can hear the TV projector is on. Compulsory broadcast still show but it's really only to alert people that there is something on. We make our way to the front room. The news is taking place somewhere in the capitol. They don't use snow's mansion anymore because of what happened. I'm grateful because I never want to see that hellhole again.

The capitol updates everyone on the current situations. How districts are doing with the rebuilds and types of aid the districts are sending out. The military are over seeing most of it. "We are now going live District 2 to speak to Major Hawthorn."

Gale.


	4. Chapter 4

After the war he never returned home, he went straight to district 2. It was one of the fastest districts to get back on its feet after the war. The military wanted to continue using as their base again. Gale was promoted for his trap design which he and Beetee came up with. Beetee is in two as well but doesn't seem to want to make an appearance.

Gale stands there in front of the cameras in his uniform. They got rid of the white peacekeeper suits and introduced jet black ones instead. On the left chest pocket it has a golden wing spread out, a variant on the mockingjay symbol. Gale looks healthy, well fed and probably well paid. Military uniform suits him.

I tuck my feet up onto the sofa, hugging my legs. Seeing him just brings up too many painful memories.

I feel Peeta shift awkwardly in his sit; I guess he doesn't know what to do with himself. I stand up, turn off the projection and sit back down.

"Don't you want to hear what he had to say?"

"I don't need to know anything about the military anymore. I hardly turned up for the meetings when it was mandatory for me."

"I can imagine that actually. What did you do, go off and hunt?"

"Found a place to hide. It kind of felt like they were keeping me in cage being underground." As I finish the sentence I realise what I just said. I bite my bottom lip waiting for the screaming to start. It doesn't. I look up at Peeta "I'm sorry."

The blond haired boy shakes his head. "Don't be. I liked my cage; it meant they weren't hurting me generally." His tone is very flat.

I bite my lip harder looking at the floor. I feel an arm go around me and a hand on my shoulder. I meet it with my own. I swallow hard and ask in a small voice. "What did they do? Other than the hijacking."

Rather than pushing me away Peeta pulls me in closer. He takes a few deep breaths. "At first they tortured me for information I didn't have. I didn't know if I was glad I didn't know or angry I was simply being hurt for no reason. You saw my interviews. Most of the beatings didn't include anything which might be shown on camera. My arms and face generally didn't get hit much. Johanna was electrocuted and dumped into water. They normally took it in turns to do things so we heard the other person scream until it was our turn again. I overhead the guards talking about you being in 13 and laughing about how it was going to be bombed. After warning you lot about it, I don't remember much of what happened. I just thought that was it and they were going to kill me but I guess that's when they got other plans on how to use me."

I don't say anything. I can't say anything. It must have been so lonely for them. Tears well in my eyes. Peeta's spare hand finds its way under my chin and thumb strokes the side of my face.

"Thought you said today was for celebrating." I nod slowly. "Well, we are here, in your home, safe and sound. Right?"

I shake my head. "No. Not my home, our home."

Peeta leans in and kisses me before I could even take a breath. This time it was different. His hand cupped my face, his arm behind me pulling me in. I feel the same hunger taking me as it did on the beach. No lightning this time to distract us. After a while we break apart but Peeta clings to me like I might disappear any moment. I kiss him on the cheek reassuringly and run my hands around his back. "Come on," I whisper. "We should turn in, it's getting late."

We hold hands as we go up the stairs but get ready for bed separately like we always have. We take our normal sleeping position with me curled up on his chest. I feel a kiss planted on my forehead. I can't help but smile and try to think of the last time he had done that. As I look up at him, he catches my lips with his. We end up on our sides, continuously kissing. I pull lightly on his shirt and his hand meets mine hesitantly. Ever since Peeta has been living here I have never seen him without a shirt on as he kneels up and removes it I can see why, even with only moonlight. His left side is burnt, as expected but the rest of his chest is full of scars. They didn't just beat him. His hands grip his thighs as he kneels there. I move to hug him and rest my head on his chest, kissing a couple of the nearest scars. He seems to become less tense and kisses me back down to the bed. He pulls on my top in the same way. I'm too self-conscious to remove my top like he did, so I jester with my hands that he can pull it off. After wriggling awkwardly out of my top, I feel his fingers tracing my patchwork of scars.

"I look like a jigsaw puzzle." I mumble.

"You look perfect." He leans down and kisses me on the forehead. I allow a small smile to form. "Katniss." His blue eyes lock with mine. "You love me. Real or not real?"

When we were in the games it was all too much. It was all too fake; everything was for the cameras, at least on my behalf. But as soon as it ended and he was take away, away from me. I hardly functioned. Then he was brought back but not as him. I moved on, I wrote him off but I always went back to the pearl, wishing the boy with the bread would come back. Now we are here, both broken, both having on and off days but we are here. Together. I wouldn't have it any other way. Gale was filled with fire, rage and hatred. I didn't need any more of that. What I needed was the dandelion of spring. The bright yellow which means rebirth not destruction. And only Peeta can give me that.

I whisper back. "Real," as I wrap my arms around his neck.

I wake up more tired than normal after realising how little sleep I got last night. I peel my face off of Peeta's chest. It felt nice resting on bare skin. That's when I remember that I'm naked which means he is still naked. I pull the sheet up tightly to my neck. Seeing me last night was one thing but in the daylight felt like a whole different ball game. I feel my back being rubbed and I look up to find Peeta waking up, looking very complacent.

"Morning" He says brightly, taking the blanket and trying to pull it up. I clench tighter onto it and keep it tucked to my neck. "My shoulders are cold." I scowl. "I saw you last night. Why are you so formal now?" My eyebrows narrow. Very quickly it turns into a game which he wins and it seems that I'm the prize.

"I have to start making the bread." He says softly whilst stroking my hair. I cling a little tighter not wanting him to leave but he pries himself from me and gets dressed.

After that day I motivate myself to start getting back into contact with people. I finally felt safe enough at home to start trying to reach out a little more. I firstly contacted my mother. Her job is going well in district 4 and didn't sound like she was in any rush to return home, if ever. I didn't tell her about Peeta and I. We keep it as private as possible. I started to write letters to Annie and got regular updates on Zale. Peeta contemplated starting up the bakery again, down in town. However, after having an almost violent episode whilst Haymitch was over, he decided he wasn't a people person anymore. He is still considering it for the future but for the time being our kitchen will make do. Haymitch still makes it over for dinner once a week even after being threatened. I still continue to hunt even with shops built in town and supplies coming from different districts. Now the need for trade is lower I start to avoid town as much as possible. Dr Aurelius is still pleased to hear from either of us. He sends Peeta medication for his tumours and tries him on different ones for his attacks. The Dr concludes that the most effective medication for him would be a small dose of morpholine daily but Peeta refuses it.

One afternoon the projection turns on and I walk into the room to see what the broadcast is about. I wish I hadn't seen it. On the other hand at least it is a warning. The capitol wants an update or an interview with the Mockingjay as it has been two years since the war was won. It makes me feel physically sick. I turn off the projector, making my way to our room. I hide under the bed. It's tight but I can lie on my side in a ball. There is a knock at the front door. I hear Peeta open it. How are the people from the capitol here already?

After a while I hear Peeta calling for me. I stay hidden. Silent. I don't know who might be with him.

"Katniss, I know you didn't go out. Where are you?"

He walks into our room and opens the wardrobes. He checks under the bundle of blankets above me. I see him getting to his knees and I'm greeted by his face. Peeta doesn't ask me to come out. He knows by now I won't until I feel ready. He speaks softly about anything he can think of. After a couple of hours I finally feel like I can talk without throwing up. I still don't feel like emerging though.

"They want to interview me." My voice is faint but I know he heard me. He lies down and stretches his hand out towards me.

"I know. Haymitch was at the door. Katniss they won't bother you. I won't let them."

"Then they will interview you if you stand in the way. We will also be public knowledge again." I slowly edge my hand towards his.

"I'll… throw something at them."

"Then you will be arrested and taken back to the capitol, back to Dr Aurelius." I can feel my heart rate starting to race again.

"I was only trying to joke. Look they may not even come. Surely they would have to give you warning first."

"Really? Because the capitol is so good at doing things proper like." I sound bitter and it's not Peeta's fault. I'm scared and angry at the situation.

"It's different now. You made it different." I don't believe it but if I don't feel hopefully towards something I'm going end up living under here. I take Peeta's hand and use it to pull myself out. As soon as I come out he embraces me. "You're safe with me."

Nothing comes from the capitol that day, or the day after. I'm too scared to go outside and I won't even go in the kitchen as it overlooks the street. I stay hidden away. Just when I'm starting to think nothing will come of, it a week later the phone rings. Normally the only person who rings us is Dr Aurelius or my mother. I answer it excepting one of the two but instead am greeted with a familiar voice. Cressida.

"Katniss, dear, how are you?" I stay silent and wait for her to get to the point. "Well, as you may or may not know, Pollux and I went around all the districts after the war to film what happened there. Being about two years on we are hoping to go back to the different districts and see how things are going. We were going to be coming down to district 12 in a couple of days and wondered if you would be up for an interview. We were also planning on contacting Peeta and Haymitch as well."

I don't shout. I don't even raise my voice. I say three simple words to her. "Leave me alone."

I put down the receiver before she says anymore. My body pumps itself full of adrenalin. I don't know what to do. Breathing becomes difficult and my head feels like its swimming. I sump against the wall. My vision becomes tunnel and sounds muffle. Someone is talking to me. I close my eyes and shut them tight to try and stop the world from spinning.

When I finally open my eyes again, I'm in bed with a blanket tucked tightly around me. I see Peeta sat on the floor looking back at me. He almost seems cautious. "You were screaming and thrashing." He yanks the blanket from under the mattress which gives me more room to move.

To my surprise, Haymitch walks in. "How are you feeling sweetheart?" I say nothing, just blankly stare. "I had to get him; I didn't know what to do." Peeta rests his head against the bed looking up at me.

I don't really feel like talking to either of them. After that telephone call it feels like Haymitch is only here to coach me.

"Who was on the phone? Is your mother okay?"

I stay silent. At this moment Peeta can think what he wants.

"Allow me to shed some light onto this matter as I can see she isn't going to talk. I got a phone call this morning asking if I would be up for an interview. I can only assume our little mockingjay got one too." I look for something to throw at him. No such luck.

Peeta sighs. "So they are coming." He looks as deflated as I feel. "So are you going to Haymitch?"

"Do you think they really care how I'm doing, boy? Or do you think they could use me to get some information on her. They wanted to contact you too. I'm sure it would be for more personal questions about how you are doing rather than about Katniss. No one would want to make the mistake of saying the wrong thing to you. Of course, they are not expecting you to be living here. If they find out, you can bet that would be a big enough story by itself, without the need for questions."

After keeping it just between us and Sae, suddenly all of Panem would know again. I don't want to face that. I roll over and look outside the window. I could run for it. We could run for it but that would be a story in itself if they turn up and we aren't here. "Haymitch, in two days' time why don't you come and stay here? If you are here as well then it will look like all three of us simply spend time together. We can still tell them no at the door and Katniss can stay upstairs out of the way."

"What if they knock on your door first and find another family living there."

"That's fine, if they ask... I live with you. Just say I couldn't cope by myself and you being such a great guy took me in. We are not going to have to go into much detail because we will be telling them to turn around as soon as they show up."

I guess the plan works. It's all we have anyway and it means I don't have to show my face. I roll back over and face them to let them know I somewhat approve.

Haymitch leaves shortly after and I spend the rest of the day in bed. Peeta brings up meals but I don't eat. I think I would only see it again. I thought all of this was left behind us now.

The next day I make it down stairs but stay sat for most of it. Peeta manages to keep me drinking water during the day and in the evening eat a little bit with him.

The next morning Haymitch is over early. I'm surprised he even knows this time of the day exists. He has clearly taken a bath and seems fairly sober. We all have breakfast together upstairs however the food seems more pushed around than eaten. It's not long after breakfast when we hear a knock at the door. I follow the men to the landing but sit behind the banister. I'm within earshot but out of sight. I can see between the balusters. Peeta stays back and Haymitch opens the door. As predicted, Cressida and Pollux are standing there.

"Can I help you?" Haymitch says in a mono tone.

The two by the door seem excited to see them. I can see Peeta edge further back and Haymitch body blocks the door.

"Haymitch!" Cressida looks around Haymitch. "Peeta! How are you both?"

"Good thank you but please understand we don't want to do an interview. We are in the back of district 12 for a reason." Haymitch responds.

Cressida smiles and nods but seems to be looking for something. Me.

"Where is Katniss?" She calls.

"Away from you." Peeta says coldly. I can see his arms wrapped around his chest, gripping his shirt.

"Cant Pollux and I say hello? No interviews or questions we just haven't seen you guys for so long."

"There is a reason for that." Peeta hits the wall with the side of his fist. From up here I can't tell if he is actually getting wound up or just trying to seem that way to them.

"Common let us through." A voice I don't recognise. I move position and see two others with them. They seem to be in black uniform.

Haymitch still continues to get into their way but is soon pushed aside by the couple of men. Peeta raises his voice. "No, why should you be allowed to waltz in here like that? It's not even like it's just you two. Who are they?" I can see how agitated he is getting. His hands contract quickly. Haymitch, who has lost the fight at the door, puts a hand on Peeta's shoulder but he is quick to hit it away and take a step towards the men who seem to tower over him.

"Peeta Mellark. We have been issued to keep Cressida and Pollux safe as they travel between the different districts. This includes from you." The man on the left pulls out what appears to be a gun. Before anyone can react Haymitch gets in the way immediately and I'm up like a shot. I run to our room pick up my bow and arrows. I return standing at the top of the stairs, silently posed.

"Now there is definitely no need for that!" Haymitch says keeping his voice calm and trying to keep Peeta behind him.

"It's a tranquilizer gun and we have been given full right to use this if we think Mr Mellark is going to become dangerous."

"Of course he fucking is! You are effectively pointing a gun to his head."

I let the arrow fly. It hits the door frame just above the guard's head. Everyone jumps back in shock by which time I already have another arrow loaded. "The next one won't miss."

Cressida and Pollux both looked shocked and hurt. "We just wanted to see how you and everyone else have been doing."

"And report it back." I say bluntly.

"Yes that was the original plan but you said you didn't want an interview. We have even left the equipment in the car."

"Then why do you have them here?" Peeta hisses. Haymitch is still trying to keep him away from the guards.

"Because they don't let us go anywhere without them. Traveling to the districts is still dangerous in some areas." Cressida says a little panicked and Pollux nods in agreement.

Haymitch lets out a sigh. His hands go out to the sides and he waves them in an 'everyone calm down' way.

"At this rate, someone is going to get killed," his head turns to me. "Or someone is going to get put down." He looks to Peeta. "What we all need to do, is calm down. Everyone, including you Katniss, should make our way to the front room. Everyone is going to take a seat. You may have some tea with us and then you have to leave."

Peeta shakes his head and barges past Haymitch, making his way up the stairs. I drop my bow to my side and move out of his way.

"I'm going to borrow your spare room." He walks straight past me into our room slamming the door.

Haymitch jesters for me to come down stairs. I pace on the landing a few times before I throw my bow and arrows down against the wall. I walk downstairs, manoeuvring around them, making no eye contact and go to the kitchen. I grab a glass of water and walk back upstairs. I open the door slowly, only taking a step in when I can see he is laying on the bed. His hands are scrunched up whilst he stares at the ceiling. I put the water down on the bed side table and pull out his tablets leaving them on top. I say nothing. Anything I do now could cause a reaction and we don't need anyone from downstairs witnessing that. As I close the door and hear a smash behind me. The water seeps under the door. I leave it and make my way to the others.

"Make it quick." I mumble as I walk into the front room. I make my way to my chair folding my legs up under me whilst the others find a seat. Haymitch reminds them that anything said is off the record and nothing is to reach or be repeated to the capitol. Pollux nods and Cressida shows her warm smile again. "How are you two finding it back in 12?"

I shrug and Haymitch explains about his geese. Throughout the morning I manage to stay quiet. Peeta's house does get brought up. Turns out before coming here they saw other people walking into his old place. Haymitch sticks with the plan and explains that Peeta is living with him. It seems believable after his outburst this morning. "Well it's good to see him here though; it means you two must get on now." I nod adding nothing to the conversation.

The questions continue and I'm finding it hard to tell if it's an interrogation into our lives or if they genially want to know how we are. They ask about how the district is doing as a whole. Neither of us can really answer because we hardly leave victors village. Cressida asks if we are enjoying the food now it's shared around from the different districts. I shrug explaining that I still hunt and Peeta still bakes for everyone so it doesn't feel any different. Haymitch doesn't eat much but he says he appreciates the booze which is sent in.

Where the conversation would seem to naturally die, Cressida picks it up again. She manages to keep it flowing even with me only nodding or shaking my head. By the end of the morning, I was even starting to join in. I fall silent though when one of the guards decides to question Peeta's behaviour, stating he is still a danger to others. As I start to rise to his defence Haymitch cuts me off.

"He possibly is still dangerous." I shoot him a questioning stare. "But to others. We know him and he causes us little harm." He wasn't lying. If he said Peeta was perfect around us they would think something is up. Everyone heard the glass shatter earlier after all.

"So you're saying he could be a danger to the public?"

"Potentially, but give the boy a break. It's not like he goes to town or anything."

This time the room silent without signs it will pick up again. They take it as their cue to leave. Other than the guards it wasn't too bad of an experience. Cressida hugs us as she leaves and hopes to keep in contact. She gives me a small card with her number on it. I smile as politely as I can back. As the guards walk past one of them pulls out the arrow I shot earlier.

"Next time you do something like this, you will be taken in." He hands the arrow over.

"There won't be a next time." I walk away as Haymitch says goodbye and leads them out the door. I return my arrow to the rest of them and take them with my bow back to my room. I slowly open the door again, minding the glass.

"You tried to shoot me, real or not real?"

"Not real. It was a warning arrow at the guard."

"The guard had a gun, real or not real?"

I stay silent, they said it was a tranquilizer gun but it could have fooled me.

"Real or not real?" His voice sounds impatient.

"I don't know."

"I couldn't stop them from coming in and you got dragged into it."

"It wasn't so bad." I look down at the floor; the wood seems to have soaked up the water. The glass has managed to bounce everywhere. I leave the room to pick up my boots and I notice Haymitch has also left. I return to the room with a cloth and start to pick up the glass.

"What did they say after I left?"

He is strongly paranoid about conversation he isn't involved with. I blame Haymitch and myself for that one.

"Cressida commented on how well you were doing. I guess the last time she saw you was in the capitol. The guards however said that you are a danger to the general public. I didn't get a chance to respond to them as Haymitch took it upon himself to nicely explain you don't go out. I was then warned if I ever shot another arrow at the military I would be arrested."

Peeta lets out a small laugh under his breath and shakes his head. "I've lost count how many times you should have been arrested." I see him down a couple of tablets and join me on the floor. "I'm sorry about the glass." He starts to pick up some of the bigger bits as his hands are still shaking.

"Were you trying to hit me with it?"

Peeta twiddles a bit of glass between his thumb and finger. It takes a while and when he finally speaks it's very quiet. "No. I was just angry at the situation. I picked the glass up to take a drink and the next thing I know… it was over here."

After we cleared up, we go down stairs. It was too late in the day for Peeta to start baking now and I was too exhausted from the morning to go and hunt. Peeta's mood didn't improve and neither of us felt like talking. We kept to ourselves that day.


	5. Chapter 5

We wait to see if anything comes of Cressida and Pollux's time with us. Every time the projection turns on we watch the whole show. Nothing ever gets mentioned and after a couple of months we assume nothing will. They kept to their word. Knowing this, I decide to keep in contact with Cressida. I phone her every now and then but she never contacts us. She always lets it be on our terms. Even Peeta will have a quick chat to her on the phone every now and then.

Time continues to pass and before we know it, it's been over 4 years since the war. Peeta and I decide to Toast. It's nothing like what Finnick and Annie had with everyone there to witness. It was just something we decided to do. Afterwards we told Haymich, Greasy Sae and her granddaughter. Peeta did make a little cake which was decorated with painted trees and a pond in the middle.

Everything stayed the same. There wasn't much improvement for either of us although we became a little more sociable. I finally told my mother about Peeta and I. She didn't really show any emotion either way about it but sounded relieved I wasn't completely alone here. Mother told me after that, that she had no plans to return. By this point I'm glad. It would upset the delicate balance we have here. However she did say she is ready to come down for a visit. I guess enough time has passed for her. It's no different from father, she shut down for a long time then too. At least this time she had a job to keep her focused. I often wonder what would of happened if I died during the games. Would she of mourned me like dad or Prim? I don't know why I sometimes dwell on it. It really makes no difference.

Her visit causes some stress, mainly for Peeta. He wants to show he is capable of looking after me. I tell him it doesn't work like that, we look after each other but he feels like he should be proving it to my mother. I explain it didn't bother me if we have her approval or not, considering she really isn't in our life.

Mother stays with us for a few days. It is nice seeing her again although she only really manages to talk about work. Peeta tries hard to stay focused but finds himself drifting out of the conversation frequently. He's fairly quiet over the few days. Before mother leaves on the last day during lunch she asks if we are going to have kids.

"Of course not." Peeta looks at me questioningly. I guess we haven't really talked about it.

My mother smiles and says "Maybe it's for the best." I agree with her but I can see her response hurt Peeta.

She says goodbye, leaving to catch the 1 o'clock train.

"No kids, huh?"

I turn to face him. "No." I go the kitchen to start tidying up.

"Never?"

"That's the plan."

"Do I get a say in it?"

"You can, doesn't mean I'll listen or change my mind"

Peeta gently pulls me away from the sink, taking my wet hand and sits me down at the table. I rub my hands on my trousers trying to dry them off. I feel exhausted even though the disagreement hasn't even started yet.

"Why not?"

"You're joking right? Firstly what if the hunger games got started again. Our children wouldn't be safe."

Peeta interrupts me before I can continue. "That won't happen again. That was the whole point of the war, to change all of that."

This frustrates me because I'm sure no one ever pictured the hunger games happening before it was too late. That's how it would happen again; it would just sneak up. He is being too trusting. I drop the list and cut to the point.

"Fine, assume it won't happen. Do you honestly think we would be good parents?"

"There are worst parents out there. We have off days more than most but it's not like we don't function at all and we are not going to beat our children either."

I'm sure that was a dig at both of our mothers.

"Off days is a light way of putting it. You've attacked me. What if you did lose it with a child?"

"I haven't lost it in 8 months."

"And? Can you honestly tell me you'll never hurt someone again?"

He finally breaks eye contact with me and rests his head in his left hand with his elbow on the table. I assume the conversation is done and go back to the washing up.

Over time children get brought up, again and again. Each time Peeta makes a point he hasn't had a complete melt down in a year, two years, two and a half. He still snaps and disconnects to what's going on around him but in three years he hasn't physically got violent. As more time passes he points out no reaping has emerged. My list against having children gets thinner until the main reason is simply, I'm too afraid to. Every time I tell him that, he comforts me saying he isn't going anywhere and that I'm not doing it alone.

As the years pass it's talked about positively or negatively depending on the day. The times I refuse to get up and stay in bed normally also include a speech on how I couldn't be a mother. Peeta waits out the rant then tells me that just because my mood fluctuates doesn't mean I can't do it. I suppose he has to have that attitude or he wouldn't be able to say he could look after a child. Peeta still grips his chair fighting of memories. This doesn't frighten me but I wonder how a kid would view it.

On good days we can think of optimistic points. Normally what we would like to teach our child. I look forward to taking it out into the woods to learn about the wildlife and if the child wanted to, learn how to hunt. Peeta talks about teaching them to draw. He says he wants to see what an innocent imagination looks like again. It's true, the child would grow up knowing nothing of the horrors of our childhood. They wouldn't know starvation, fear or suppression. Why people had children with that all going on confuses me. Maybe they were mainly accidents. Something we haven't had to worry about thanks to Dr Aurelius. Peeta continues to bring children up and it almost becomes a daily conversation. I guess now is the safest time for a child to be born when comparing it to the past. After 15 years of being together I finally give in.

"Okay."

Peeta looks up from his sketch book confused. "Sorry I think I blanked out, what's okay?"

I frown at the floor. "We... We can have a child." My voice is weak but I know he heard me by his expression. He puts his sketchbook down and joins me on the sofa.

"Are you sure?"

I nod and curl my way into his side. He strokes my head as his other arm wraps around me. "Well, we'll give it another 6 months. If you still feel the same way then we can."

I'm slightly confused. I assumed he would want them as soon as possible. Half a year is almost as long as you carry one. I look up at him not needing to say anything. "I want to make sure, you're sure" He smiles kissing my forehead.

We sit in silence, Peeta continues to sketch. Although we are okay in the house I start to think about a child being so confined.

"We need to start to go out." I say directly.

"What do you mean; we go out, just not to town."

"Exactly that. We need to start going to town. If we have a child, they will need to go to school. We will need to buy clothes for them. They will outgrow them every month." I see the frown forming on Peeta's face. "We will take it step by step."

Six months seem to go passed very fast for me and I'm sure the opposite for him. I know he is looking forward to my verdict but he also hates being dragged out to town at least once a week. Peeta wears a hoodie at first with the hood up. After a while I tell him it doesn't matter if people recognise us now or later when we have a child. Everyone is going to know about us again, sooner or later. We walk around the boarder of town, to get a good view of where everything has been rebuilt before venturing in. We start in the Seam. The hob has been rebuilt but it's much nicer than before. It's a cream colour rather than black and grey from the coal mines. There are new stools for people to use to sell from. Meeting up with Greasy Sae made it much easier on Peeta. She seems pleased that we were getting out and about more.

After a few weeks in the Seam we start to make our way to the merchant's buildings. It not easy going passed where Mellark Bakery used to stand. Peeta shuts down for a while as we stand in front of a new unfamiliar building. He doesn't move or talk. I have no words to comfort him. All his family died there and now there is a butchers in its place. I guess they didn't want rebuild the bakery on top of it. When Peeta finally comes to, he heads straight for victors village. I don't stop him. Over time, we make a mental note of where in town we could buy clothes, toys and other things a baby would need. It's hard seeing how it's changed. Harder still when people chat about us but never to us. "Isn't that the Mockingjay" or "Wasn't that the boy who lost his mind?" The people are made up from the remaining population of 12 which is about 900. Some came from 13 as it isn't too far away from here.

I stir, only waking up to see Peeta leave to go downstairs. I follow him down shortly after; neither of us bringing it up. Maybe he is worried I have changed my mind. Over the last 6 months it's hardly been spoken about. Peeta has really left the subject alone. I guess he didn't want to put any pressure on me. I kiss him on the cheek before walking out.

The fresh morning air always feels nice. I sling my hunting bag over my shoulder. I was planning on checking the snares I set yesterday but for some reason I end up at Haymitch's house. I push the door open. The smell still hits me every time. I open a couple of windows on my way to his dining room. Unconscious, he is spread out over the table. The years haven't been kind to him. No doubt to do with his drinking habits. Carefully stepping around the bottles, I spend a minute looking at this man, our mentor and friend throughout the years.

I find a couple of bottles and roll them into him, across the table. Neither of us shake him awake now, after he managed to catch me with his knife on my arm. He rouses as groggy as usual.

"Damn it. What? What time is it?"

"Early." I reply. I know he isn't going to appreciate me being here.

Another incoherent sound escapes his mouth. I try to find a clean glass. In the end I use white spirit on a glass over the sink and then wash it out. I fill it with water and place it beside him as softly as I can. I'm sure his head is pounding.

"What the hell brings you here girl?"

"A favour." My voice isn't its usual strong self.

Haymitch looks at me, blinking several times, clearly trying to get me into focus. I wonder if he remembers the last time I was here asking for his help.

"Is that so. What can I do for you sweetheart?"

I don't know how to bring this up. I can't imagine him having a positive word to say about it. I sit spinning a bottle on the table. Haymitch is surprisingly patient with me, even after all these years.

I start off slowly, almost tasting the words in my mouth. "If Peeta and I were to have a child…" I trail off from my original question. "What do you think?"

Surprisingly, Haymitch picks up the water and starts sipping at it.

"What does my opinion have to do with what you two want?"

"So you don't think it's a bad idea?"

"I didn't say that." He smiles over, taking another sip. "I think if that's what you two want to do then its fine. So what's the favour?"

I continue to playing with the bottle. "If something is to happen to us. Would you look after it?"

Haymitch looks at his water. "Nothing is going to happen to either of you two before something happens to me."

Very likely.

"If Peeta has a break down which hasn't happened in years now, not a full one, could we rely on you to take it in until the episode is over?"

I can tell he is processing the request. He is the only person here I would completely trust. Also if something was to happen with Peeta, Haymitch is only next door. He would be much easier to get to than Sae.

After a while, Haymitch gives a small nod. He gets up, chucking the water away and finds a bottle. He goes to pour it into the glass, but the bottle finds his lips first. The glass is discarded again. I take it as my queue to leave and I make my way to the forest, collecting from the snares. I didn't bother with my bow today. I take out a smaller bag from inside my hunting one and start to pick off strawberries. It's rare I take them. I normally leave them for others to make jam but there were so many today. I return home dumping the bag in the kitchen. Peeta has already finished baking and I can see the bread is out to cool.

"You took longer than normal." He doesn't look up from what he is drawing.

"I went to talk to Haymitch." I moved over to his side on the sofa.

"Really, at this time? I'm sure he appreciated that." He chuckles under his breath and continues shading in. He doesn't question why I went over. He seems too engrossed in what he is doing. I look over to see his drawing. It's a very large tree with what appears to be vines, no wires, running all over it. It's the tree from the 75th games.

"Did you dream about that last night?" He nods. I press no further.

I don't know how to bring up children. For him it always seems such a natural topic.

I make a couple of phone calls and skin the rabbits, handing them over to Sae when she turns up for the bread. We go through our daily routine. I wonder how this will change with a baby. Will I have time to go out and hunt? Will Sae still expect bread? Maybe I'm thinking a kid will take up more time than it actually would. I suppose during its first months it can't do anything but sit or lay in a cot.

It's not until bed time the subject comes up. I can feel Peeta watching me and waiting to see if I take my nightly tablets. I pick up the half used packet and throw it in the bin besides the bed. I turn to look at Peeta who is doing an awful job at concealing his smirk. I get into bed and sit against the headboard mimicking Peeta's position.

"Are you sure?"

I nod.

"Not good enough, Mrs Mellark. I want an actual verbal answer." It's rare he calls me by his surname, being so playful but serious at the same time.

"Yes, I have decided we can have children." I'm surprised I manage to finish the sentence before he kisses me.

It didn't take long to become pregnant. I was a little shocked at first how quick it was. I soon learn I can't have breakfast anymore, anything I eat before noon is seen again abruptly. Other than being sick every now and then, I carry on as normal. It's not until my belly starts to swell does the reality really kick in. Some days I refuse to get up. I lay in bed curled up. I think Peeta questions whether I am regretting my decision. The truth is, I don't know. He brings up my meals but I find myself staring at the plate. After a couple of days of this and Peeta asking me softly to eat, he snaps. He doesn't shout but his words are harsh at to the point.

"You can't simply not eat anymore when you don't feel like it. You're not just eating for yourself. You've got our little one to think about as well." His hand finds its way to my stomach under the sheets. "Think about it this way. The more you eat the better quality your milk will be afterwards too. We don't want to use goat's milk if we can help it."

It's true, even though we have always had plenty of food, I haven't really ever eaten that much. I have always stayed thin. The thinner I am the less likely I will be able to produce milk. My body will think I need the nutrition more.

I sit up taking the plate from Peeta's hand and start eating the vegetables first, then the meat. Sae must have brought us the veg because I know Peeta hasn't left the house. I only get through about half of it but it's better than nothing and it seems to relax Peeta slightly.

Over the next few months I start revising what I used to do when I got confused.

My name is Katniss Mellark. I'm 33 years old. I am safe in district 12 with Peeta. I'm pregnant with his child. I only have 2 months to go.

I don't have many plans for the day anymore. I can no longer go out and hunt. I sometimes help with making the bread but most of the time I find myself in bed. Peeta drags me outside for walks in the meadow. Not too far but it gives me fresh air and the physical excise seems to improve my mood. Today though, I know what I have to do. I phone my mother to tell her the situation and ask if she will come down for the birth.

She questions it to begin with, even asks if it was an accident which gets my back up. After talking about it for a solid 20 minutes she agrees to come down a couple of weeks prior to the birth.

The last two weeks go by very slowly. I'm frustrated by everything. My mother says it's down to nerves and puts sleep syrup in my tea every night before bed so I can try and get some rest. She reassures Peeta that it will have no effect on the baby.

Giving birth is horrid. The pain is hideous. I refuse to let Peeta in the room during the contractions. He fetches towels and warm water like my mother asks for but I tell him to leave straight away afterwards. I don't want him to see me like this. When I am finally ready to push my mother calls him in. Red faced I turn to shout at her but she stops me before I can get a word out.

"Stop being selfish."

Mother talks me through everything and she holds my hand when she can. Peeta gently places a hand on my head whilst I scream and push until I'm blue in the face.

"It's a girl!" She exclaims.

Peeta wipes my brow and kisses my forehead. I hear her screams. Even I know this is a good sign. She is wrapped in a soft towel and placed on me. I hold my baby girl, exhausted.

"What do you want to call her?" Peeta whispers in my ear.

"Willow." I look to Peeta for approval but he isn't looking at me. He is simply smiling at the new born in front of him.

"Perfect." He says in a small voice. I pass her over into her daddy's arms whilst I receive some stitches.

"She needs a feed." My mother says taking Willow from Peeta. She shows me how to get her to latch on and make sure she is taking milk. Mum stays with us for a few days showing us the ropes and then leaves us to it.

"I'm only a phone call away." She says as she closes the door behind her.

I sit there, staring at her cot. I don't really know what to do with her. I have no urge to pick her up and cradle her. I don't know what to say. I simply stay in silence watching her. Peeta has to encourage me to feed her every few hours now my mother has left. I don't get much sleep the first few days. She doesn't scream or cry much during the night. I simply feel uncomfortable not being awake. Peeta can tell I'm on high alert and constantly reassures me nothing bad will happen.

"Please, go to sleep." He rubs his temples. I can't tell if he is frustrated or just suffering from lack of sleep as well. I shake my head. "I'll stay up and keep watch, not that there is any need to. But you must get some sleep."

We stare each other down in the dark until I finally give in. I am exhausted. I fall asleep quickly and I must be too tired to dream about anything because the next time I awake it's by Peeta gently shaking me.

"It's feeding time," he tells me softly. Although I watch Willow like a hawk, I'm normally too lost in it to pay attention to the time. I'm grateful Peeta keeps an eye on it. He picks her up, having a cuddle with her first, before putting her down in my arms.

It takes a couple weeks for me to start functioning how a mother should. The more I hold her, the easier it becomes. I don't have to be reminded to feed her and her crying doesn't send me into a panic anymore. I start to be able to talk to her, hold toys and play with Willow. Everything just takes time.

Greasy Sae pops over for what bread Peeta can get around to making. She always has a helpful tip on something to do with the baby.

Time continues to fly by as we watch her grow. Everything becomes easier and I start to take joy from all the things a mother should. It's not long before she starts to crawl. We take her to the meadow and she sits happily pulling out the grass. Her bright blue eyes shining as she looks at us, proud of the bundle she has in her hands. Willow's noises soon start to sound like the beginning of words. Before long, she is able to run circles around us.

We joke, saying she should have someone around her own age to play with and to keep up with her. The joke starts to become a more serious discussion. It wasn't long before I was pregnant again. Carrying this one was a little easier but not much.

Peeta had to try and explain to Willow why mummy didn't want to play or why mummy was sleeping all the time. On days when I could manage it, Peeta would take both of his girls out to the meadow. Willow would point and ask questions about my belly most of the time. Trying to give any explanation to a three year old is challenging. One question always leads to another.

Since Willow was born my mother comes down for more regular visits and our second child wasn't a surprise to her like our first. We ask if she would help us deliver our second one when she was down for one of her stays.

"Of course I will." She says happily whilst playing with Willow on the floor. She stays with us two weeks in advance again. We tell Haymitch that we would need him to look after Willow this time. We don't want her to see it and we can't leave her alone for however long it takes. When Haymitch arrives he is completely sober like we asked him to be. Labour doesn't take as long this time but hurts just as much.

"It's a boy." Mother sounds as excited as she did the last time.

This time I take to new born straight away. I can't wait to hold him.

"What do you want to call him Peeta? I named Willow." Peeta mulls it over sitting next to me, caressing the few blond hairs on the baby's head.

"Rye."


End file.
